Roses Have Thoughts

There are thrillers, and then there’s The Fugitive. Released in 1993 and directed by Andrew Davis, it’s the kind of film that doesn’t just hold up decades later—it runs laps around many modern action thrillers. Revisiting it now, The Fugitive feels like a shining relic from a time when Hollywood blockbusters trusted intelligence, character, and restraint. It’s a film that wastes no time, gives you no fat, and hits the ground running—literally—from the first frame to the last.

Harrison Ford delivers one of his finest performances as Dr Richard Kimble, a man condemned for a crime he didn’t commit. Ford, that master of weary integrity, plays Kimble not as an action hero but as a man in pain—resourceful, yes, but always human. The brilliance of the performance is in its understatement: a clenched jaw here, a glance there, a subtle shift from hunted to hunter. And, crucially, Ford never lets us forget Kimble’s loss. This isn’t just a man trying to clear his name—he’s grieving, he’s shattered, and he’s angry.

Enter Tommy Lee Jones, chewing scenery and stealing scenes in equal measure as U.S. Marshal Sam Gerard. Jones won an Oscar for the role, and it’s easy to see why. He’s sharp, wry, and completely unflappable. But what makes Gerard more than just a dogged pursuer is Jones’s gift for grounding flamboyance in believability. You root for him even as you want Kimble to escape him. Their dynamic is electric—a perfect cat-and-mouse game where neither is villain nor hero in absolute terms.

The pacing is sublime. From the jaw-dropping train crash escape (still a marvel of practical effects) to the taut foot chases across Chicago rooftops, Davis crafts set-pieces that pulse with energy but never feel bloated or gratuitous. The cinematography by Michael Chapman gives the film a steely, wintry texture, and James Newton Howard’s understated score supports without ever overwhelming.

But here’s the kicker—it’s smart. The Fugitive doesn’t spoon-feed. It trusts the audience to keep up, to piece together clues, to lean in. And that’s why it endures. It’s a popcorn thriller with the soul of a detective novel, wrapped in the grit of procedural drama.

In an era saturated with CGI bloat and narrative shortcuts, The Fugitive reminds us what sharp writing, stellar casting, and muscular direction can achieve. This isn’t just a great 90s thriller—it’s one of the greatest thrillers, full stop. An absolute five-star classic.

IMDB